Page 46 of Good For Me

I shrug. “Pie’s the best.”

She meets my eyes, gaze searching my face much the way mine did to hers. “It’s good to see you,” I blurt out.

“It’s good to see you too, River.”

“Let me buy you some pie.”

She bites her bottom lip, as if considering. “I can’t tonight,” she finally says, and my heart drops to my knees. “But, um, maybe we could have coffee one day? Later this week?”

Fuck yes. “I can do coffee,” I say quickly, afraid she’s going to change her mind. “Whenever you want. I’m free.”

Jesus, I’m glad none of the guys are close enough to hear this. I sound pathetic. And I don’t even care.

If Jas notices my embarrassing eagerness, she doesn’t mention it. She looks distracted as she nods. “Okay. Coffee. Maybe on Friday?”

Friday? I think I’ll go crazy if I have to wait an entire week to see her. Luckily I have an excuse. “I’m going out of town Thursday night,” I tell her. “Will’s wedding.” I have to bite my tongue to keep from inviting her along.

One step at a time,I tell myself. First, coffee. Maybe then I can work on convincing her that she was dead wrong that day after we slept together. There’s nothing causal or no-strings about the way I feel for Jasmine Weaver and there never has been.

“What about tomorrow,” I ask. “For the coffee?”

Her eyes widen, something like panic swimming in their grey depths. “To…tomorrow?”

I shrug. “Why not?”

“It’s so soon,” she murmurs, eyes avoiding mine again.

I reach out and nudge her arm, wishing I could take her hand instead. But I don’t want to push her. When I walked out of Davie’s Pub I told myself it was for the best, that the easiest way to deal with how I was feeling was to avoid seeing her. But now that she’s here, standing close enough to touch, I can see how stupid that was. Ineedto see Jasmine. I’ve felt the absence of her in my life every single day since then.

And there’s no fucking way I’m going to screw this up.

“I’ve missed seeing you,” I say softly. “I want to catch up.”

She studies my face for a long moment, biting her lip. Then something strengthens in her expression, her shoulders straightening. “Okay,” she says. “I can do tomorrow.”

Relief rushes through me. “Great. Can I pick you up? What time?”Cool your jets, asshole,I tell myself. I can’t push her. Not when I finally have the chance to spend some real time with her.

“I’ll meet you,” she says. “There’s that coffee house on Center, around the block from Davie’s?”

I grin. “I’ll order you a triple shot Americano if I get there first.”

Her eyes widen a little, like she’s surprised I know her order. How many times did I see her coming into the bar with a cup from Java Nice Day Cafe in her hands?

A strange expression comes over her face—almost sad. “I’m more of a decaf tea girl these days.”

Hmm. Jas used to drink so much coffee I joked with her that she should inject it through an IV. But I’m trying really hard not to scare her off by demanding she tell me every single thing she’s been up to since I saw her last, so I let it go.

“Java Nice Day at ten?”

The sad expression is replaced with a familiar sardonic one that looks much more like the Jas I remember. “You’re going to be awake and out of the house by ten?”

I would meet her at five in the morning if that’s what it took. “I can be there whenever is good for you.”

She takes a breath, like she’s stealing herself for something. “I usually feel better after lunch. How about two?”

I narrow my eyes. What does that mean—that she usually feels better? What the hell is going on with her?

“Jas—”

The bell on the door rings and Jas startles, like she forgot where she was. “I should go,” she says, starting to move toward the counter. “More customers.”

“Okay,” I tell her, even though I want nothing more than to hang onto her for the rest of the night. “I’ll see you tomorrow at two?”

She nods, looking determined. Like she has to psych herself up to agree. “Tomorrow.” She won’t meet my eyes. “Night, River.”

Since I can’t stand not touching her, I reach for her arm again. This time, I don’t merely nudge it. I wrap my fingers around her wrist and squeeze gently, loving the feel of the silky soft skin over her pulse point. “Good night, Jas.”

She gives me a tight smile, still not meeting my eyes, and I release her arm. Watching her walk away from me stings way more than it should.

Tomorrow,I tell myself. I’ll see her tomorrow—and hopefully I’ll figure out what the hell is going on.